Through the Ages: a Skyrim Fanfiction
by acaciablueheart
Summary: Follow the life of Rosanna, the chosen Dragonborn. Her hardships, her loves, her failures, and her triumphs.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Prologue

"_Paarthurnax_..." An old voice called. He settled into his own crevice of the mountain. Moments passed, and the dragon that had always been a little older came into view.

"_Yes, student_?" Paarthurnax asked, gazing down the dragon. This had better been good. Paarthurnax had been meditating on _Fus_, and Mirmulnir's often frivolous requests had interrupted his train of thought

"_Tamriel...is blessed. The Dragonborn is calling_..." Mirmulnir mourned. He dipped his head, his scales glimmered even though the sun was hiding, then looked up at the old-time _dov_

"_Find him. Or her. We need the Dragonborn_. Ysogrimr ti gwoln Dovahkin. _The civil war...and the returning of Alduin_ _are far too close to be...natural_. Guthin du minin" were the great being's words. And his word was law, as he lowered his head and continued to meditate, trying to push his nature behind.

With those words still in the air, Mirmulnir took of, great wings translucent in the twilight air.


	2. Chapter 2 - Her Life

Rosanna crouched, silent, in the forests. It was lush, and smelled of dew, for a spring-time storm had recently passed over. The fox was running, in fear of some creature of the unknown. The bowstring was pulled taut, her deep violet eyes trained on the orange creatures.

One...two...she loosed the arrow.

**Meanwhile..**.

"I don't think this is a good idea." Aren said tentatively. He looked uncertainly up to the chieftain of the group.

"Who are you to contradict me?" The Bandit Chief snarled. His yellow eyes became dangerously close to Aren's green ones. He backed up a little. Great. Another week without food. His shrunken stomach was begging for anything, whether it fish, or skeever-hide.

He's not part of these bandits. Yes, Aren was dressed as one, his hands bound, and his pouch empty. And he knew of their plans. These horrible things would beat her, rape her, and take her money. Leave her to die. All too often, Aren had seen this cruel act within weeks.

There was a lone hunter, now in the lake, knee-deep in crystal clear water. A fox was fallen, on a rather risen piece of under-lake ground.

The beautiful Nord was crouched down, skinning the fox amd singing a song with no certain lyrics. She looked content, her eyes somewhere beyond this land.

Aren didn't know what happened: maybe she heard something. Maybe they moved too much in the shadows. But the girl straightened, and saw them, hiding in the rocks. She wiped her long fingers on her fur skirt. Aren noticed that she had a peculiar pelt 'cape' knotted at her pale, defined collarbone.

"I trust you're not planning any trouble. What can I do for you, friend?" She asked, her bright eyes on the Bandit Chief.

"Yes, there's something we need." he said, his face and lips begging, but his eyes malicious and unfeeling, as was his nature, waiting for her gold and body.

"What is it? I'm sure Crystal, Alessi, and I have something like it at the camp." The girl said. She had the body of the fox, gently stroking the sleeping face with long fingers.

"We were robbed! And have nothing. We need just a night somewhere safe, and some coin. Then, we'll be out of your life for good."_ Please, don't_ _fall for it. You seem to nice. _Aren thought. He longed to warn this lass, before her life was taken.

It was right at this moment, the Bandit Chief shoved Aren roughly into the water. He smacked his head against a jagged rock, leaving him dazed and half conscious. Silently, he leaned against the cool, craggy rock, trying not to black out.

The girl scrunched up her full lips, and glanced down to the pebbles, thinking for a moment.

Them, without skipping a beat, she pulled out a pouch from her slim hips, and handed over a bulging sack of coins over.

"Life savings. But it's worth it, if it helps you. And yes, I'm sure we have enough furs to make a few beds for the night."

_Damn it_

"DON'T LISTEN!" Aren suddenly roared, and somehow leapt up. For one, frightening moment, he wasn't sure if he could stay awake. "They're planning to rape you, then kill you and take everything!"

Rosanna hated violence. She hated any kind of conflict. She's a peaceful Nord. Rosanna even had a little graveyard, where any poor fox or rabbit she happened upon went. No doubt, Kev would bring back some kind of game tonight.

Now, she seemed to have gotten herself into a situation. Rosanna was too far from the camp for Alessi or Crystal to hear her pleas...but Kev, Irin, and Bolyn might. After all, they were dogs, with the keen hearing of wolves.

"Now, I don't want any trouble." She said gently, backing up, "Keep the coin. I just want to live my life.

"That's not an option." The Bandit Chief said. She screamed as he slammed his dagger into her side. Blood started to flow, nothing a good healing spell or potion couldn't fix, but still. Rosanna wouldn't fight. She didn't want to fight. Let him do what he wanted. Just let her dogs, and Crystal, and Alessi be all right. For once, her minder wasn't there to protect her from the world.

"BOLYN!" Rosanna screeched, her voice high. "IRIN! KEV!" in a matter of seconds, three dogs, all unique, came crashing through the foliage, responding to the call of their master. Bolyn was a brave dog, with a shaggy dark coat, and eyes that rivaled the deep brown of his fur. He was the oldest. Kev resembled a forest wolf, with his muscled body and wild eyes. Irin was a shaggy, white dog with green eyes.

They were her life-long companions. Fifteen years. Traveling into and out of Cyrodil, the beautiful and sunny land.

They fought. Kev unleashed a beast's fury, as teeth connected with flesh, and foam dribbled from his mouth. Rosanna had no choice. She bashed with her oakwood bow, and crouched to avoid otherwise fatal attacks. It was hard to see with all the water sprays and splashes of the lake.

"Please! Don't fight!" She cried whilst blocking an iron dagger to her abdomen. but they didn't listen. Now, Rosanna was forced to act woth violence.

Grabbing an iron arrow, Rosanna jabbed it into the throat of a bandit. The arrow pierced the jugular. Blood sprayed finely, like some horrible, ruby fountain. He went down. It was all she could stand. Simply attacking by bashing her bow into ugly faces, to stagger, and stabbing with arrows. When it was over, the water was pink with blood, and bodies floated, limp and face down in the water.

Instantly, Rosanna threw up. Down on hands and knees. When she staggered back, one bandit was left.

Authors Note*

Aren is MY character, and made up from me. Every other character (Except maybe Rosanna) is Skyrim's, and Bethesda's.


	3. Chapter 3 - Where Now?

Gross. Aren looked away when the girl threw up. The dogs were settled by her side, with a certain sense of loyalty about them, like a protective aura.

The girl slowly, and shakenly stood up, then her darkened eyes settled on him. He noted the purple hue of her eyes, and how large they were on her marble heart face.

"I'll try and make this painless. I'm sorry." She whispered, advancing with an iron arrow in hand. The Bandit Chief, now dead, had shoved two daggers into his calloused hands to kill, and cut Aren's binds. Talos, this looked like _he_ was one of the Bandits to attack her.

"No! I'm no bandit! They were going to kill me as well! I haven't eaten in weeks." To prove his point, Aren lifted his shirt to reveal his ribcage, clear for all to see. "I'm Aren." This was all true, he hoped the girl's heart hadn't hardened in those precarious few moments in battle.

The Nord stopped. She shook, and slowly put her bow and arrows away. Her pouch was at her slim hips.

Handy thing, pouches. They can carry a ton of weight, and you don't feel anything until you pass the limit.

Anyway...

"I trust you. I don't know why, but I do." She helped Aren up. Her hands were cold, but soft in his own. "Now, let's get back to the camp, and you can stay for a while." She turned on her heel, and strode back to camp, glancing back, to make sure that he was safe. The dogs loyally followed behind her, sending sprays of that warm spring water.

Despite Cyrodil's recent colder weather, the hot springs were always a break from harsh winds and snow arguments. Their camp was on the lake, on a bed of rock.

The two made it to camp, where Alessi was fretting over them in her maternal way. Rosanna brought out a few pelts to make a bedroll, and Alessi started a pot with boiling water, to assure it was safe to drink.

Milk was in jugs, not yet sour. Rosanna handed him a tankard of it.,

"Milk drinker" he laughed. Aren was greeted by a puzzled glance. "Never heard it? It's an insult." she shrugged. Make fun of her, if he wanted. Rosanna certainly didn't mind, as long as there wasn't a fight. "When you go to a tavern, and order milk instead of mead, it means your weak. I don't mean it, but it still is a little...I'm going to stop talking now."

Slightly embarrassed, and a little impressed by her naïve nature, Aren focused on his tankard.

Rosanna gave him a good-natured smile and put some venison into the stew. Alessi threw in some leeks and potatoes, which brought Irin over with curiosity.

"Miss, you should hurry. Your friend here looks...thin." Alessi chirped, then cursed as she stuck her finger on a needle. She broke the peaceful silence between the three.

Rosanna had once lived in an almost-nomadic family, who moved from province to province almost every year. Her mother had been a well-meaning Skooma addict, her father a devout worshipper of Akatosh. As a result, Rosanna had grown up with Minders instead of Parents. Most of the time, it turned out they were using Rosanna and her family for their own, often evil, purposes. But Alessi had been around the longest, and came when Rosanna ran away. She was trustworthy.

"Mm." She looked down at Aren, smiling. He looked a little bewildered by this.

Bolyn and Kev came back, with fresh meat in their mouths from small forest game.

"Where's Crystal? Is she still hunting?" Rosanna inquired. She sat down, and started to carve a branch with a plain dagger.

"Who is this?" Rosanna turned around. Crystal was behind her, her hands jammed into her wide hips, her brown curls a little more wild than usual. Her green eyes were surprised.

"Aren." Rosanna responded, and sat down next to him. "He was captured by bandits. We saved each other." Crystal didn't like the looks of this young man, and Rosanna knew that. "Please, put some faith in him." Kev placed his shaggy head onto her slim knee.

"Fine. But just don't eat all the mammoth steak. It's hard to come by." Crystal liked him better now. Rosanna knew she liked to hide her emotions, but they've known each other too long to ignore it, much like a captain couldn't ignore clouds.

She smiled slightly. "I'll make the bedroll." And she started to sew, with rapid, practiced hands. Without much else to do, Alessi began to patrol the camp with Irin at her side.

"Don't you want to live somewhere more...lavish?" Aren asked uncertainly. The Nord lived in a hunter's camp. Aren was used to mansions in Helgen, with a bard and an armoury.

They were all sitting around the fire. Crystal, a beautiful and true Nord, was finished with his bedroll, and was sitting around the fire with a look of happiness. Aren noticed how that look was common amongst them.

"Why? I have a tanning rack, food, bed, and my dogs. It's all I need." The huntress, Rosanna, said simply. She looked to the others for comfirmation. She looked at him, and smiled gently, revealing straight teeth, not yet touched by nature.

Aren had a differant image for Rosanna now. She was quiet, thoughtful. Thought before she spoke, and avoided fights and conflict. She was...interesting.

"Tis true, 'tis true." Crstal said, stretchig her long limbs. She was the more outspoken, bolder of the two. Kev sighed his consent, belly up on Crystal's lap.

It grew dark, and Rosanna tanned a few skins before smoothing out a bedroll.

"I was making a tent fabric for you," she explained.

For an unknown reason, Aren didn't mind so much.


	4. Chapter 4 - The Trek to Skyrim

When Rosanna awoke, she saw Aren already up, just watching the streaked sky. It was orange, and paintbrushed with turquoise and lavender. She sat up slowly, and crawled towards him.

Rosanna leapt up, and clamped her hands onto his slim shoulders.

"Augh! Troll!" Aren cried, laughing. "What's with the...beast?" He gestured towards her wild array of soft hair, framing her pale face and shoulders.

She grinned, showing straight, white teeth, and laughed. Crystal sat up and yelled at them to go to bed. She was not one to be a morning person.

Aren had been thinking. Maybe, he could wean them back into civilization, take them to Helgen. To his proud manor, with all the servants, maids, cooks, and gardens. But then...suitors would be at her door, tapping on her window during sweet summer nights. He knew. Rosanna is easily the prettiest girl he had ever seen. She was petite, with a heart shaped face, big lavender eyes, and long hair,

Right now, Rosanna was scratching at the ear of Kev, the wolf-ish dog. She had a peaceful, happy look on her face that almost made Aren feel guilty for having such thoughts. She curled her lean legs under her, and watched the sunrise with him.

He glanced over to her, and saw her messy hair, flung back from the breeze, and her eyes. They had a certain...fire to them.

"Good morning, early birds." Alessi chirped from her tent. The two started, and smiled sheepishly. In a matter of minutes, Crystal was out, complaining in a joking manor about the morning,

The three eventually had to dress. Aren felt obligated to turn around whilst they were changing into their furs.

Aren accidentally caught a glimpse of them. Crystal was tall, and curvy, whilst Rosanna was much thinner. She had a sunken stomach, that showed a bit of her ribcage, and clearly defined hips, her thighs no hope of touching.

"Imperial, you can turn around" Clara called. He jumped, and swivelled around sheepishly. Now, Rosanna's hair was brushed, and tamer, a long fringe covering most of her right eye.

The air was chilly, with a mist that covered the lake, and assured utmost silence. Rosanna took a deep breath, and waded into the waters.

She had never gotten the reason of Septims. The higher-up people who lived in towns and wore finely stitched clothing that didn't trade furs and mammoth tusks always used coin. The three had gathered a smart amount of coin from those kinds of travellers.

She slowly flipped the coin betwern her pearlescant nails, and tossed it into her bedroll again. There was a long silence between the 4, broken only by Irin's loud breathing.

"Crystal? Alessi? Rosanna?" She turned to the sound of her name, forgetting about the Septim.

"We're listening." Crystal rapped out, and a playful smile crossed her face.

"I want you to come to me. To Helgen." He let out a breath, and gazed at them expectantly. Crystal and Rosanna glanced at each other, then at him again. Alessi wasn't a part of this, so she sat on a bedroll. Rosanna raised her brows slightly, and gave a small smile. Crystal usually spoke for the both of them.

"Rosanna isn't quite sire. She has a pretty solid image of what towns are like. But I'm fine with it." She flipped back a few brown curls. "Maybe it'll change our life outlooks. We'll do it."

The road was long. Aren looked over to see Rosanna gazing at the forests longingly, or bending down to pet one of the dogs.

"The sky is so blue. I wonder how that is." Crystal musef. Aren smiled, showing dimples he was unaware of. He liked that girl.

Rosanna looked down. Of course she understood if he likrd her instead of Rosanna. After all, Crystal was pretty c more outspoken, and louder than her. Rosanna thought before she spoke, and tended to look at the ground.

When Rosanna began to get anxious for her camp, Aren clapped a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Surprised, she jerked to the side. She had never taken well to kind gestures. As a child, Da had always been involved in his preachings.

"It's going to be alright. You'll love Helgen." He whispered to her.

"I'm scared of one thing." Rosanna responded quietly. She could hardly keep her eyes on his face without her heart skipping a beat.

"What is it? Tell me anything." He said firmly.

"I'm not so sure I'll be able to find myself after this." Was all Rosanna needed to say.

**Author's note**

Spelling and grammar's much better! Reviews are appreciated, and there's more to this story coming soon!


	5. Chapter 5 - Rising Action

**Chapter 4 - Rising Action**

They started towards the border that distinguished Cyrodil and Skyrim in the morning. No more Cyrodil. Aren wasn't sure how they were doing,

At around _middas_, they stopped to eat. It was wonderful, with sweet rolls, cooked beef, and vegetables. Milk was poured, mead was sloshed, and light banter went between them. Rosanna leaned back, and actually relaxed. Something abounAren made her feel...free. Herself.

"Skyrim's border should be up ahead." Aren offered, after a few days of traveling. "Helgen will be amazing, I promise."

Rosanna stroked Bolyn's head as they walked. The sunrises and sunsets were beautiful. Orange, and pink, and red, mingling with lavender to create this sky. Her soul felt calm.

Then all hell broke loose.

She'll never truly know what happened. Crystal thought that they had walked into a rune spell, which was Rosanna's best guess.

Crystal was catapulted into bushes, a sickening crack resounding into the air. She stopped breathing that moment.

"CRYSTAL!" Rosanna screeched with an inhuman tone of desperation. She sprinted forward to help her friend, before another rune spell, this one ice, sent her flying back herself. Rosanna landed into the crumbling dirt, blood and tears blurring her vision.

Aren flew over, and landed on top of her. There were whimpers, and yet another blast insued, and then the dogs were nowhere to be found.

Aren and Rosanna were thrown into a river. She choked on ice water, holding on to Aren's limp body, and attempting to get air. Her lungs were tight, and filling with the river's water as she tried to swim along the edge.

Rosanna saw, for one fleeting moment, Alessi. She was alive! Hopefully, she'd survive.

"Run!" She managed to choke out. "To my family! Don't...don't come back until I send..." And her esophaugus filled with that cursed water.

What Rosanna didn't know of, was that a waterfall was ahead. She managed a glimpse of what looked like an entire army running forward, following them. She gasped and threw up water, and proceeded to tumble head-over-heels. For a moment, her thin legs stuck to a rock, and left pale skin on when she continued through the current.

She was weak. Rosanna began to accept her death. She fell limply over the waterfall, and fell like a marionette with it's strings cut, into a deep, frothing pool. Rosanna weakly gripped Aren's shoulders, keeping his head above the icy waters.

Help me, Hircine. Rosanna thought to herself. Her thick hair was plastered to her face now, blocking whatever vision she had left.

The waters calmed, by some miracle, possibly by some higher being?

Closer to death than she had ever been, Rosanna swam to the side, grasping at silt and sand. With a dying breath, Rosanna wrenched herself and Aren up to the bank, and dropped, a senseless heap on the ground.


	6. Chapter 6 - The Ride to Her Fears

Chapter 6 - The Road to Her Fears

_Owww_...Rosanna thought painfully. Slowly, she opened her eyes and closed them again. She was in shade, but her blinding headache prevented her from immediately acting.

Once she could see, Rosanna looked around. She was in a cart, pulled by horseback,

There was no Alessi, and no Aren, and no Crystal. It ripped a hole into her heart, reminding Rosanna of her loss.

When she took another look, Rosanna saw that there was 3 men sitting in misery with her. The man that stood out the most to her, though, was the large, bulked and muscled man in the corner, with his mouth gagged. He was staring at Rosanna with a solid gaze through the corner of his eye.

"Hey, you. Finally awake." Rosanna was jerked out of her trance. The man that spoke to her had long, light blonde hair and clear crystal eyes. He had a worried, saddened look on his face.

"Who are you?" Rosanna's eye widened. "And where am I? Where is Aren, and Crystal, and my dogs?"

"Never mind that. They're gone." The man said gruffly. "I'm Ralof."

"A Stormcloak, right?" Rosanna ventured. Crystal had always kept them up to date on current events.

"Yes. You were trying to cross the border, right?" She nodded, looking down to avoid tears. "Walked right intonthr Imperial ambush. Same as us, and that thief." He jerked his blonde head towards the dark haired young man.

Everyone had binds on their wrists, they're hands were useless on their laps.

Rosanna bit her lip, and glanced to the thief, Lokir, as she had learned. He looked like he was about to cry.

She'd always been soft-hearted.

Carefully, Rosanna leaned over, and in a smooth move, place both hands onto his shouldet, in a comforting gesture, and gave him a little smile.

"Damn you Stormcloaks." Lokir suddenly burst, with heated anger in his voice. Surprised, Rosanna leaned back, watching the scene unfold neatly before her, "Skyrim was fine until you came alpng. Empire nice and lazy."

She assumed he had stolen a horse. Wasn't a great crime, but guards would still have given a chase. "If they hadn't been looking for you, I could have stolen the horse and be halfway to Daggerfell." Alessi had once talked about Daggetfell. Memories were coming back.

Lokir looked sharply towards Rosanna. "You there. You and I, we shouldn't be here. It's the Stormcloaks they want." His eyes were dark and intent, trained onto Rosanna.

She blinked. Stormcloaks. Ulfric's name. Wait...she wasn't a Stormcloak. Lokir and Rosanna didn't have high enough bounties (she had none) to get arrested...which meant...yeah. They were being illegaly incarcerated. Great.

Where had that sarcasm come from?

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." Ralof said grimly. Rosanna sighed. Guess it was her fate. Thank _you_, Hircine. Maybe she'd switch to Arkay.

"Shut up, back there!" A soldier barked from the front. Rosanna rolled her eyes, and slumped in defeat.

Lokir looked over to Ulfric. "And what's wrong with him, eh?" Ulfric was gagged, and for the first time since she woke up, he broke his intense gaze and glanced at Lokir.

"Watch your tongue!" Ralof barked. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King." Ralof had a certain, loyal pride to his voice, and he straightened in his seat.

Rosanna knew of him. Even a hunter hears of Ulfric's power and influence. There was a good reason for his gagging. She had heard that Ulfric had shouted High King Torygg to death. It's what triggered this damned civil war.

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm?" Lokir said incredously. "You're the leader of the rebellion." His voice was awed, and Rosanna couldn't help but smile a little. Da had once taken her to Windhelm, to teach the 'heathens' about Akatosh. Apparently, Rosanna had always been a heathen to him. Always will be. Which was one of the reasons she ran away, and lived as a hunter until now.

"But if they captured you..." Lokir began to think. "Oh gods...where are they taking us?" Execution. Rosanna had already figured it out. Ulfric's blood had a huge value to the Imperials.

The catch? It was illegal execution for Lokir and Rosanna.

"I don't know where we're going." Ralof lamented. "But Sovngarde awaits." Sovngarde. The honored Nord dead went there in the afterlife.

"No. This can't be happening." Lokir cried, his eyes widening with realized horror. Truthfully, Rosanna was waiting to wake up back in her bedroll, with Aren still watching the sunrise, and Crystal alivr, and her dog present. Tears stung her eyes.

There was a long puse.

"What village are you from, horse thief?" Ralof suddenly asked, breaking the depressing silence.

"...Why do you care?" Lokir asked sullenly, looking up from his lap.

"...A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

"Rorikstead. I'm...I'm from Rorikstead." Lokir finally said. The whole conversation was depressing. Rosanna's homeland was everywhere, it seemed. No end of traveling in sight.

Rosanna had been borned in Skyrim, raised there until she was six years of age. Then, brought into the Summeset Isles, and then Hammerfell, to the Black Marshes, and finally to Morrowind. Where her old family last resided. They could be anywhere, now.

"General Tullius! The headsman is waiting." An Imperial guard called. A cold shiver ran down Rosanna's spine.

"Good. Let's get this over with." Tullius said. Rosanna liked hearing his voice. It seemed...familiar.

"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh, Divines, please help me!" Lokir begged, his face to the blue.

Strange...Rosanna never regretted leavin her brothers and sisters until now. When all chances of a last sighting were gone.

"Look at him. General Tullius." Ralof spat, disgust evident in his voice. "The Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him." Rosanna had never really had a problem with the Thalmor, other than random agents searching their camp for Talos worshipping objects.

"Damned elves. I bet they had something to do with this."

They always did, it seemed. At the moment, Clara was quite annoyed with Skyrim. She had once read about it, in a scroll.

In order to end the Great War, Skyrim signed a contract, called the White-Gold Concordat. But, in order to have it bring peace, the Thalmor had their demands. No more worship of Talos, and Skyrim does their bidding, it seemed from Rosanna's point of view.

Rosanna would have joined the Stormcloaks, if she had gotten the choice. If people spoke out, or doubted thr Thalmor's ways, they were dragged off in the middle of the night.

Another, longer, pause.

"This is it. Helgen." The name reminded Rosanna of Aren. A grim sarcasm settled in her chest. She was finally here, and it looked like she was the ony one to survive the ambush.

"I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilad still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in." Grim silence. Ralof kept talking, filling in the gaps

"Funny. When I was a lad, Imperial walls used to make me feel so safe."

Funny.

A boy named Haming was talking. It was quiet, so Rosanna could listen. Haming had once given her a bunch of flowers, as a gift for being nice.

"Who are they, Daddy? Where are they going?"

"You need to go inside, little cub." A nickname for Tomlinsong that Da once called him.

"Why? I want to watch the soldiers." Haming complained. He had to go inside. He didn't deserve this. He had once sold Crysal, Alessi, and Rosanna sweet rolls. Best 3 Septims she had ever speny. The memory of his uplifted face was still fresh.

"Inside the house. Now." Torolf said, a little more urgently. Rosanna bowed her head, praying that Haming would have a good life.

_Crystal, I'm coming_


	7. Chapter 7 - The Call of the Evil

Chapter 7 - Call of the Evil

_What? Why are we stopping_? Lokir's panicked tone stayed with Rosanna even when they were off the cart. Roll call.

_Why do you think?_ Ralof had said._ End of the line_

"Empire loves their damn lists." Ralof grumbled. He was the main talker amonst the group.

Rosanna was tugged back to reality by his voice. She had been thinking about her brother, Tomlinson. She had never realized he had genuinely cared for her. She had guessed it was too late that she genuinely cared for him as well.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm" An Imperial called. He stood next to the Captain, looking sorry for the captives.

Something about that young man was vaguely familiar. Rosanna remembered childhood friends she once had, while Rosanna was on a short trip through Skyrim to a hunter's dream.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric." Ralof callef. Last good-byes.

_I_ _never got to say mine. To Crystal, or Aren. Not even to my dogs_

"Ralof of Riverwood." The Imperial called. His voice...

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

"No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" Lokir cried, panic edging his voice.

"Mnnnn!" Rosanna muffled a cry of protest, and pressed her lips together. All she could do was watch in horror as the scene unfolded.

Lokir ran. He was bony and lean, but his limbs flung out as he ran, desperate for freedom as Rosanna was. "You're not gonna kill me!" He taunted. She had to admit, he had gotten farther than she had imagined.

"Archers." The Imperial Captain called, raising a lazy hand.

A single arrow pierced Lokir's heart flesh. He cried out and fell, swinging around and lying face down. War dogs rushed forward, to devour their new meal.

She abruptly retched, and jacked a fist into her mouth to stop the solid, hot volcano building.

"Anyone else feel like running?" The Captain asked teasingly. Her eyes were glittering with a horrible light.

"Wait, you there. Step forward." The Imperial called. He looked down to the tiny Nord with sorry eyes.

_Hadvar_.

Memories flooded forward through her slightly muddled mind. Of Ralof, Hadvar, and her playing in fields, gathering wildflowers and stealing pies off of window sills during summer twilight. Laughing, and secret notes, written in what they had thought at the time, was Falmer language.

It seemed like a lifetime ago

"You've chosen to come home at a bad time, kinsmen." Hadar mourned. His eyes never left hers, as recognition registered. Hadvar nearly dropped his registor. "Rosanna..."

"Hullo, Hadvar." She said quietly. "And good-bye."

It didn't seem to matter whether her name was on the list or not. The Legion couldn't afford to risk it. So here she was, lined up in military fashion with Stormcloaks.

Rosanna remembered Hadvar's last words to her: I'm sorry. At least you'll die here, in your homeland." Yes. Her home.

"Ulfric Stormcloak." General Tullius said, all to gloating in his nature. He stood in front of the man, eyes glinting.

"Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the voice to murder his king and usurp his throne."

Fancy.

Ulfric just grunted, his voice muffled by his gag. For a moment, his eyes flickered towards Rosanna, then went silent.

"You started this war. Plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace."

A rather loud kind of...roaring? Shouting? Whatever it was, echoed off through the plaza from an undetermined location. Everyone started to look around, and a few even looked almost a little nervous.

"It's nothing. Carry on." Tullius said, brushing it off like nothing had happened.

"Yes, General Tullius." The Imperial Captain said. "Give them their last rites." The captain commanded to a preachet. Gods. Rosanna had gotten enough from Da.

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you-" she had begun, raising her arms toward the sky. She never finished.

"For the love of Talos, shut up and get on with it." A Stormcloak snapped. He walked forward, to his death. Poor soul. The preacher stiffened from a sore pride.

"As you wish." She said coldly, and slunk to the sides, to hide her new red face.

"Come ON. I haven't all morning." The Stormcloak cursed. He was fearless, it seemed. All the Stormcloaks were. No one was scared, no one was nervous. Rosanna guessed serving Ulfric was gift enough.

The Headsman shoved the soldier down, and his head rested against the block. Last words came forth.

"My ancestors are smiling upon me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" He challenged, then glared at the Headsman with a mocking glare.

There was a pause.

**_Whack_**.

Head rolled.

Traumatized.


	8. Chapter 8 - Unexpected Company

Chapter 8 - Unexpected Company

"Next, the Nord in the rags!" The Imperial barked. She didn't even bother correcting the fact that Rosanna had a name.

"You Imperial bastards!" A Stormcloak bellowed, her face red with barely contained rage,

"Justice!" A Helgen man called, with glee in his voice.

"Death to the Stormcloaks!"

"As fearless in death, as he was in life." Ralof mourned. Rosanna looked down, her heart in her throat. Why was this world so heartless?

The cry reverberated through again. That...indescribable shouting that raised the hairs on Rosanna's arms. Shaking her head, Rosanna continued on her way to her death. The gravel was rough against the soles of her feet, and the slab of stone was cold. Rosanna wondered what Death would feel like. Would it be quietl? Dark? Light?

With the way her head was positionrd, Rosanna noticrd that the headsman had one dead eye, milky white. He raised his axe. A dragon appeared, and it's voicr, she assumed, spoke to her mind.

_Alduin_.

"What in OBLIVION is that?" Someonr screamed. Obviously, a dragon. The ebony black scales glinted in the morndas light. His red eyes pierced into the depths of Rosanna's soul, giving her a fear like no other. Gods. She had never seen anything like it, before.

"Dragon!" A Stormcloak cried in fear.

The headsman's axe slowed down considerably. He was staring at Alduin in awe, and by the time the axe came to her neck, it was simply resting on the skin. Quickly, she slid to the side, but the blade still cut her. It left a long, red, dripping line across the base of her neck.

Whether it was by axe-ident or not, Rosanna'd never know. But the flat of a war axe hit the side of her head. She stood still for a moment, and fell. Hard. After a few moments, Rosanna managed to stand up and find her balance, but everything was a little blurry.

Then, it Shouted.

It was so **_concentrated_**. On each and every one of them. Insantly, Rosanna was flung back, and into a wall. She sank to the ground with a sickening crack, unable to find the energy to get back up.

"Hey, kinsman! Get back up!" Ralof cried, hauling her back up to her feet. "I don't want to have to carry you all the way!" Great. Rosanna somehow managed to stumble along, with his help, into a tower. All hell broke loose, it seemed. Alduin was throwing chunks of tower, and pillars of white-hot flame to everyone.

There were two injured Stormcloaks on the ground.

"I'll have to carry one. But they'll live." The healer said. Rosanna gave him a grim-set smile, and looked to her left. And started.

Ulfric was at the side of the door, with Ralof. Rosanna could hear Alduin wreaking havoc, as she stood next to Ralof, frail shoulderd heaving with emotion.

"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing?" Ralof cried. "Could the legends be true?" His pitch was rising, much unlike his calm demranour. Everyone was panicking now, it seemed. It was every man for himself.

"Legends don't burn down villages." Ulfric said gravely.

"We need to move." The Jarl announced suddenly. "Now! Up through the tower, let's GO!" Rosanna started up the spiral steps, leaving to the healer muttering to himself, and the groaning of injured soldiers.

"Come on, friend, let's go!" Ralof urged, leading up the steps. It was at that moment, Rosanna suddenly got a dizzy spell halfway, and leaned against a wall. Her vision blackened around the edged. Rosanna watched through half-closed eyes as a Stormcloak attempted to move bits of crushed wall and ceiling,

Alduin burst through, with his scaled head.

"Toor...SHUI!" It screamed, and fire flew. Panicked, Rosanna scramblef back, and landed in Ralof's muscled arms. She started to shake. There was no hope now, for the soldier. But Ralof and her still had a chance, however small.

Rosanna stood at the edge of the new hole, punched into the tower. There was a burning inn on her right, and a lot of empty space to jump at her left.

"See that inn on the other side? Jump through the roof." Ralof commanded, those loght blue eyes trained onto the Nord lass.

""But, Ralof!" Clara pleaded. "What if -"

"No ifs. Just don't look up." Ralof said firmly. He placed a hand on her newly calmed shoulder, and looked into those purple eyes. "I want you to live." Rosanna nodded weakly, and gathered strength into her thin calves, jumping.

She singed her elbow, and landed on the wooden floor. Now, this was all kind of hard, since her hands were bound in front of her stomach.

She continued to run. In a few moments, Clara found someone safe. Hadvar. With no one else, she ran to him, clinging to his tight waist. Which, was easy, as she was as short as a Breton.

"Haming! You need to get over here!" Hadvar begged. The child was standing near his father, Torolf, uncertain.

In a sudden burst of crazy strength, propelled by motherly instinct, Rosanna ran forward and broke her binds in the frenzy, wrapping Haming up in a bear hug, and running towards an elderly man and Hadvar.

"That's it, son. Make me proud." Torolf called after them. He was curled up on the ground, with a cut stomach. Alduin landed, and blasted his inferno, killing the father instantly.

"Gods...everyone GET BACK!" Hadvar cried. Sobbing, Rosanna ran beside a ruined building, with the older man and the Imperial soldier. She only let Haming go once Alduin was passed, and she was certain he couldn't see the young Imperial boy,

"Gunmar, take care of the boy." Hadvar said breathlessly, as he crouched, eyes still following the evil being, known as Alduin. "I have to find General Tullius, and join the defense."

Rosanna looked back uncertainly, and then followed Hadvar. They ran down to an alleyway, where Alduin almost impaled her on a sharp-tipped ebony wing. She yelped, and crouchrd, then continued running through ruined, burning buildings.

In a short moment, Rosanna heard General Tullius call to Hadvar about going to the Keep. Alduin started to Shout, and fighting back. Soldiers were crying with desperation about how it couldn't be killer.

By this point, Rosanna was beginning to believe it.

As they ran, Ralof appeared out of almost no where. Three childhood friends, now reunited.

It wasn't as happy as you'd think.

"Ralof! You damned traitor! OUT OF MY WAY." Hadvar yelled. The two were meters apart, but anger was definitely there.

"We're ESCAPING, Hadvar. You can't stop us." Ralof called calmly.

What had happened to Rosanna's childhood friends? The sweet boys who fancied every girl, including her?

"Fine. I hope the dragon takes you all to SOVNGARDE!" Hadvar roared, his face turning red, whilst Ralof's paled. Rosanna guessed he kept a sliver of respect, as Nords who were strong of heart went there when they died.

Rosanna didn't know who to follow. Two friends. Two lifesavers.


	9. Chapter 9 - Escape

She ended up following Ralof. The two were in what looked like the keep. A round tower, with a Dead Stormcloak under a chair, dagger in throat. Three doors. One that she had came through, now locked. And two gates that were locked. This looked bad.

"We'll meet again in Sovngarde, brother." Ralof mourned, laying a hand on the Stormcloak's breast. He stood up and looked at Rosanna, haggard and slightly panicked. "Looks like we're the only ones who made it. That thing was a dragon, no doubt. Just like the children's tales and the legends." he looked at Rosanna, his eyes wild. "The harbingers of the end times."

Wait, the end of the world?

He shook his head, and looked around. "We have to find a way out of here. But it's locked." the two walked over to the wooden gate. After an inspection, he came to the same conclusion as her. "Damn. No way to open it on our side."

Were they going to die?

A familiar, too-loud voice pierced the thick air. From instinct, Rosanna cringed.

"Come on Soldiers, KEEP MOVING." There was a pause. "Get this gate open!" There was a lot of grunting, and muttering under breaths. Ralof and her exchanged glances, and crouched. Rosanna was familiar with Sneaking, from watching the most magnificent beasts in forests, with silence as a cloak. She brought out her axe, which Ralof had insisted she take from Gunjor, the silent Stormcloak who lay with metal in his throat.

The gate opens, with creaks and complaints. The captain walked in with swagger and an injured step. Two Imperial guards were with her. Rosanna's resolution to fight, fled, and she ran to a curved wall, hands over head and yelling 'Don't fight!' mind. By the time Ralof was finished, Rosanna stood, her face pale and waxen.

"Maybe...maybe one of these Imperials have the key?" Ralof asked in a low voice. She shook, her entire being shaking. Rosanna took halting steps towards the Imperial Captain, now face down. She bent down, and started going through the pockets. So far, she hadn't anything. No luck.

Desperation started to rise in her. Rosanna knew they had a small chance to avoiding the dragon, and just escaping through the gate, but most like Alduin would see them. Dragons see all. She could hear him roaring through all the stone. Rosanna searched the Captain's pockets. Cold, shaped metal found its way into her hand. For a brief moment, Rosanna fumbled with it for a moment, before tugging it out.

"Ralof!" she called excitedly, while dangling the key. He grinned. "An escape."

The gate led to a case of spiral steps, heading undergrown.

Rosanna didn't know what happened, but she somehow tripped and fell all the way down those same spiral stone steps.

_"Owww..." _she complained, picking herself up with a red face. Ralof laughed heartily. Sheepishly, Rosanna smiled. She actually surprised herself, because she had previously thought that she'd never be able to smile again.

The pair continued on, through a corridor. In surprise, Rosanna stopped dead in her tracks. A small army of Imperial Soldiers were waiting for them, on the other side. There was a violent shaking, and then Rosanna could hear Alduin.

The ceiling came down.

She was directly under the force.

Ralof saved her.

He had leapt from the archway, and shoved her roughly about an inches' worth away from the collapse, shoving her into a wall and landing on top. For several minutes they just lay there for a few moments, attempting to recover.

"T-Thanks." Rosanna said hoarsely. They stood up, shaking slightly. Rosanna pushed a lock of thick hazel hair from her face. It was streaked with dirt, sweat, and blood. Closing one slightly swelled eye, Rosanna looked around. There was one escape left.

"We have to get out of here! What are you doing?" Ralof and Rosanna crouched, again. Two Imperials were talking in rushed voices, searching for something.

"I'm not leaving until I find those potions Farengar hid."

"Ha! That wizard's lucky he had to leave early."

One of them caught sight of Rosanna's ragged skirt. Her breath hitched.

"For Ulfric!" he cried, and slashed her arm. All thoughts of peace, and tranquility were gone from her mind. She drew her axe, and hacked her way through them.

One was left. They circled, looking for a chance to strike the other. Rosanna's blue eyes were lit by a fire, her skin pale and shone with a sweaty sheen, as did the soldier. She held her axe up, and faked a lunge. He leapt back, then snarled with frustration. They continued to circle. The soldier bristled, and let out a groan when Hadvar hit him with an arrow. It protruded from his back.

Rosanna took the opportunity and leapt forward, laying a killing blow to the soldier. He yelled and fell back, lifeless.

What had happened to the peace? Who _**was**_she now?

After scrounging two swords from the soldiers, and several healing potions, Rosanna went over to Ralof, who was patiently waiting for her. As a side note, she had found a Pouch.

She had the pouch now, at her slim hip.

More spiral steps. Rosanna was starting to think she'd never reach the exit. Her legs were tired, and cramped, her arms stained with blood, and her hair a knotted, tangled mess. It was quiet, until Rosanna's keen ears picked up the sound of fighting. Was there never an end?

Two Stormcloaks against the Torturer and the Torturer's Assistant. The Torturers were fighting with Magicka, sweating and cursing the Stormcloaks. The blue-clad two were fighting with strong two-handed weapons, yelling various expressions. The Torturers were quickly overpowered, and killed in minutes.

Both of the Stormcloaks were fine, after Rosanna healed them.

"Was Jarl Ulfric with you?" he absently cleaned his blade. Rosanna leaned against a blood-stained pillar, taking deep breaths, trying to calm her gag reflex.

"No, I haven't seen him since the dragon showed up." the female Stormcloak said a little hurriedly. She had an aged face, spotted with dirt. She put her weapon on her back, stretched a little, and stood next to Rosanna.

She gagged, and bent double over while the Stormcloaks talked.

"Wait, looks like there's something in this cage." the four walked over to the cage. A dead Mage was in the corner, freshly killed it looked like. Rosanna bit her lip, a sour taste in her mouth. She licked her chapped lips. "Rosanna, try and pick the locks." She silently picked the lock without much of a problem.

The lock clicked open, and she cautiously peeked around. Since she didn't want to disturb the dead, she left the mage alone, and gathered the coins on the bottom of the cage. Rosanna guessed it was as good a time as any to start making use of those cold, metal coins.

She licked her chapped, dry lips and continued to follow Ralof and the Stormcloaks. The three were talking, with Rosanna just listening. She started to see the reason for the Stormcloaks' uprising, or their Rebellion. For a brief moment, Rosanna considered joining their cause. Free the empire.

A giant room, that looked like an extension of the torture room, was partially destroyed. The four probably wouldn't have made it, if it weren't for the gaping hole put in the stone. Rosanna wasn't the only one to feel a shiver go down her spine at the sight of the skeletons, in hanging cages.

The Stormcloaks walked down the hallway, with the tiny Nord in front, ears pricked.

Rosanna's life had never been easy. Her housecarl, or minder, Alessi, was with her. Even when she was hunter, and running away, Alessi was with her. Most of the time, her Minder was in the Holds, collecting salt piles, or strings and bits needed. But Alessi had always been there. Had she been in Helgen? But Alessi had never always been with her.

When she was younger, crossing Skyrim to get to Cyrodil, Rosanna was forced to sneak food and water and milk from unsuspecting houses. Her Sneak skills were heightened as a result.

"Orders are to wait until General Tullius issues orders."

"I'm not waiting to be killed by a dragon!" an Imperial soldier argued. Rosanna would have been just content with waiting until the Imperials had escaped, but apparently, Ralof and the two Stormcloaks had other things on mind.

"For Skyrim!" they yelled, brandishing their iron weapons and shields.

Rosanna found an opponenet, and prepared herself for more death and gore. She, again, swiped her tongue against her pale lips, and braced herself, spreading her slight weight over her knees. The two swayed gently, waiting for the perfect moment. The right spot.

"You're not coming out of here alive, you damned Stormcloak." the Imperial hissed, his eyes slitted with hatred. Rosanna sneered, and struck, with a sword scavenged by the dead. Her shield blocked an otherwise-deadly attack, and parried. The man ended up dead, on the end of her sword.

"Yuck." she grunted, kicking the corpse off of the blade and helping her fellow Stormcloaks.

"I...I'm going to stay behind. Watch for the old man." one of the Stormcloaks said, looking at the ground. Ralof and Rosanna bid them farewell, and followed the tunnel. For some reason, Rosanna felt like that was their last goodbye from anyone. She felt a lump in her throat, and couldn't tell if it was vomit from all the death, or tears.

Now it was just Ralof, and Rosanna. Because of the exhaustion, fear, and irritation, the two didn't talk much. Just the sounds of padding feet and breathing filled the otherwise dusty air.

"Holy motherf*cker those are _huge_." Rosanna gasped when she saw four spiders, waiting for them in a cavern. She stopped dead in her tracks. Her mind raced. Memories of Alessi beating off spiders when she was just a babe, because she was scared, came back.

**"AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"** she screamed, and brandished her fire spells, in each of her hands and ran forward, blasting them with fire. Her Magicka was depleting, which she could feel in between her breasts. It was strange, Stamina and her Life Force she could easily feel. But Magicka...it was located somewhere in her chest. Hard to tell.

**"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"** she screeched again, when two spiders, much bigger than her, dropped down on top of her. The head was so large, that she could see her face reflected in their black eyes, each and every one of them the size of her head. She lay back and trembled, screaming all the while.

"I hate those damn things. Too many eyes, you know?" Ralof asked, when he had killed the spiders.

Rosanna stood up. "Think the dragon heard me?"

"I think all of Tamriel heard you. Loathe those things, don't you?" Ralof remarked affectionately. He took ahold of Rosanna's thin arm, hoisting her up.

Rosanna's cheeks flushed. "I've always hated them. But Alessi always took care of them."

"Alessi?"

"My minder. Mother couldn't care less about me."

They nodded grimly, and walked on.

"A bear. I don't want to fight with that right now. Maybe we can sneak? Or, you can take it on. I'll use a bow, and you can take it by surprise." Ralof said. "Either way, I'm with you a hundred-percent."

Rosanna weighed the options. She pursed her lips and shook her hair, which was an earthy shade of hazel. She glanced towards the bear, sleeping, and unaware.

She crouched, her thighs already started to burn, and took a roll. It was quiet, padded by soft soil, and Ralof went along, his eyes trained on the lovely lass.

"I'm glad we made it out. I was beginning to think we'd never would." Ralof breathed. Rosanna rushed forward, forgetting all thoughts of stealth. By now, the bear didn't care anyway. It was sleeping. Peacefully. At least this time, she was able to avoid conflict. The hem of her ragged robes caught on a rock, sending Rosanna tumbling forward.

"Ow." she remarked, getting back up. Newfound clumsiness. Huh. Never something she had experienced, but maybe the darkness of this cave was muddling with her thoughts and vision. She felt...strange. Like...like...she was empty. Her life-long companions were gone, dead. In the corner of her visions, she would constantly see hints of Bolyn. But he was dead, and there was no hope for him. Tears blurred her vision.


End file.
